Two Step
by Deandra
Summary: Lothiriel is frustrated with Eothain’s wooing of her maidservant. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 59 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 59 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: I considered making this two chapters, but there would have been one long and one short, so I finally decided to let you have it all at once. Another little treat for Valentine's Day. **_

_**See end author's note for comments about Eothain.**_

**Two Step**

**(Jul, 9 IV)**

"Eothain!" Lothiriel snapped at the Marshal with exasperation, "I do wish you would stop doing that! You frighten the poor girl out of her wits!"

"My lady!" Eothain exclaimed, giving her his best 'innocent' face, "You do wound me with such accusations! I would never terrorize a lovely young lady!" He laid his hand over his chest as if in solemn testimony to the truth of his statement.

"Ha! Do not play that game with me, Marshal. I know you too well, and you would _delight_ in terrorizing that girl if it amused you! She is from Gondor and not accustomed to you rough Rohirrim as I am! Please, do leave her alone. I should not like her to flee home and leave me without a maidservant! I should have Eomer banish you from the kingdom until you learn better manners!"

Grinning roguishly, Eothain bowed and bent to kiss the queen's hand, "If it pleases my lady, I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior at all times henceforth!"

Pulling her hand from his, she gave him a chastizing look, "Do not try to charm me with your smooth talk! It is apparent that _your_ best behavior is insufficient. I suggest you _learn_ better behavior before that promise will hold water!"

Laughing heartily, Eothain made his way toward the exit, "I shall try, my queen. I cannot promise!"

Despite her remonstrance, Lothiriel could not restrain a grin. Her maidservant, Miren, had gotten married when Elfwine was a year old. After she gave birth to her second child, only a few months before Lothiriel bore Theodwyn, she had finally decided it was time to stay home with her children. The two of them had been close friends for a long time, and Lothiriel had hated to lose her assistance and company, but well understood how she felt. Her departure had necessitated finding a new personal maidservant, and it had been while she was visiting at Minas Tirith that she met a girl who seemed suitable. Queen Arwen had made them acquainted, and because the girl's family were all gone, her mother dying just a few months prior to that, Arwen had thought she might be interested in taking a post somewhere away from her painful memories.

Though the girl, Zimraphel, was incredibly shy, she and Lothiriel had gotten along well, and she had readily accepted when the offer was made. Not until the journey home, had Eothain become aware of her. Ever since the first moment of their meeting, he delighted in teasing her into a blush. Not that it took a great deal to cause such a reaction in her, but the Marshal was quite merciless, despite all Lothiriel's attempts to make him behave. She knew full well that it was only good-natured teasing, but poor Zimraphel was so intimidated by such a big, handsome man that the things he said to her never failed to trigger her shyness to its fullest extent.

Once or twice, Lothiriel had told Zimraphel she would have Eomer make Eothain stop the teasing, but the girl seemed to become even more embarrassed and assured her it was not necessary to involve the king in such unimportant matters. Her shyness made her seem younger than her twenty-six years, but knowing she was a grown woman and since she refused having Lothiriel take firmer action, the matter was left unaltered. When it got very bad, like today, Lothiriel would chide Eothain, but he knew she was not serious enough for him to stop.

Despite the difference in their years, Eothain being almost thirty-seven, Lothiriel had a sneaking suspicion that the Marshal was actually somewhat interested in the girl, and this was his way of flirting with her. It was more difficult to tell if Zimraphel had any feelings for him in return, though, since Lothiriel did not know her so well and she revealed little personal information about herself.

xxxxx

Mid-September arrived, along with the annual Harvest Festival. It had been a good year and the town was greatly decked out for the occasion. There were places for dancing, eating, drinking, games of chance and so forth. Zimraphel had lived her entire life in a city and was unacquainted with such celebrations that agrarian societies held. Lothiriel had given her the evening off and encouraged her to go and look around.

She wandered for a bit just idly watching the various activities, trying to decide what to do first. The festival had actually begun earlier in the afternoon, but now the sun had already set. She was considering finding a food stall and getting something to eat, so she cut behind some stalls to return to the food area. She was brought up short when she found herself at a deadend and two men had moved toward her, one stepping behind her to cut off her exit.

"Well, well, look here! A lovely lass come to keep us company!"

It was clear that they had been drinking for some time, but despite the slight slurring of their speech, they still moved quickly enough to corner her. "Come on, missy, how's about a dance?" one asked, grabbing her waist and pulling her up against him.

More than a little frightened, she tried to pull away, "No, please!"

He breathed heavily right in her face, "Come on, now. We won't hurt you."

He leaned toward her and she closed her eyes, but suddenly he jerked roughly away from her and she blinked open her eyes in bewilderment. She found the reason in the form of a rather angry Eothain, who flung the man over so he collided with his companion.

"It would appear," he hissed at them, "that the two of you have had too much too drink, and have forgotten how to treat a lady." He stepped toward them threateningly and each fell back a pace or two as he added, "No matter what you remember tomorrow of this night, you had better make certain you remember this – if you ever lay a hand on this woman again without her consent, you will answer to me! Is that clear?"

Both men jerkily nodded their heads, "Yes, my lord!"

"Apologize," he growled.

The one who had grabbed her took a nervous step in her direction, "Apologies, miss. We meant no disrespect." The other man convulsively nodded his agreement.

"Get out of here!" Eothain snarled, and the two stumbled hastily away, glad for the reprieve.

Drawing a steadying breath to calm his anger, Eothain turned to Zimraphel who had been staring at him in astonishment, but averted her eyes when he looked at her.

Stepping toward her, he asked gently, "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head in response, but could not help wrapping her arms around herself and shivering with reaction.

Eothain hesitated a moment, then moved closer and pulled her into an embrace, saying softly, "I am sorry they frightened you. They meant no harm, but that does not make their actions any more agreeable."

She was stiff in his arms, despite how warm and safe they made her feel, and she was embarrassed when a tear slipped down her cheek. She was still trembling, and he held her tighter, laying his cheek on the top of her head. "It is alright, little one. I would not let anyone harm you."

At his words, she finally relaxed in his arms and welcomed the comfort they offered. After several minutes, she felt awkward being so intimate with someone she barely knew and pulled back. Reluctantly, he released his hold on her. They just looked at one another a moment, until Zimraphel dropped her eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Eothain, for your assistance." Her voice was so soft he almost couldn't make out her words.

"I am ever at your service, Zimraphel," he answered quietly. He paused then asked, "Would you have me walk you back to Meduseld, or would you wish to stay and enjoy the festival longer? If you wish to stay, I will stay with you so you will feel safe."

Her head came up in surprise at the offer, but she hesitated, "I…I do not wish to take you away from your plans for the evening, my lord."

He grinned, "My only plans for the evening are to enjoy the festival. I can do that quite well with you beside me!" He eyed her speculatively a moment, then asked, "Have you eaten? I am famished and would like to find some food!"

She smiled tentatively at him and nodded her agreement. He reached out and caught hold of her left hand, then wrapped it around his right arm and moved back toward the food stalls. She still could not bring herself to look at him directly most of the time, but neither could she keep from sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye, particularly when he seemed to be looking elsewhere.

They purchased some food, which Eothain insisted on paying for, and then found a spot at the tables to eat. Zimraphel was a little surprised at how good his table manners were, since many of the soldiers she had seen eating rather shoveled food in their face with reckless abandon. She sipped nervously at the wine he had procured, feeling it help her relax slightly, though she still found it difficult to make conversation with him.

If he noticed her silence, he gave no indication, occasionally asking her a question or volunteering information about himself or Rohan. When they were done eating, they continued to stroll through the festival and she found her earlier fright had been forgotten, and she was very much enjoying herself.

He won two small prizes playing games of skill, which he gave to her, and then he steered her toward the dance area. "Would you dance with me?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

With a deep blush, she nodded shyly, and let him lead her into the dance area. It took most of the dance for her to relax to any extent and she was blushing even more when it ended. Her stiffness had made her clumsy and surely he must think her a terrible dancer. To her surprise, as the next song began, he swept her into it without a break and, for a moment, she forgot her embarrassment as she became caught up in the fun.

Several dances later, they paused to drink and refresh themselves. It was beginning to get late and the stalls were slowly closing. Halfheartedly, she told him, "I should be getting back now."

Draining the last of his ale, he nodded and rose, offering his arm to her. A bit more confidently, she took it and they strolled in silence back to the Golden Hall. He followed her inside, rather than part from her in front of the guards, and pulled her to face him. Thinking a moment, he finally said earnestly, "I meant what I said. If you ever have need of me, for any reason, do not hesitate to ask." Slowly he raised her hand and kissed her knuckles, as she ducked her head and blushed red.

"Thank you, my…Eothain," she whispered softly. "You are most kind."

Nerves overcame her then and she pulled quickly away, hurrying off to her bedchamber, but pausing to take one look back before stepping into the hall. He still stood there, watching her leave.

The next morning, while Eothain was waiting to see Eomer, Lothiriel put in appearance and gave him a knowing smile. Tilting her head off toward the side, she indicated he should follow her and they stepped away to where their conversation would be private.

"Word has it that you and Zimraphel were together for the entire festival last night," she observed.

His expression sobered, and he explained to her the circumstances that had brought them together. Lothiriel considered this, then met his gaze, "Thank you for looking after her, Eothain. I appreciate it."

With a grin, he asked, "Does that mean you will stop chiding me for teasing her?"

"You may wish!" she retorted, moving away and smirking at him over her shoulder.

xxxxx

As the autumn stretched into winter, Eomer decided that Elfwine was old enough to go on his first hunting expedition. Eomer had a small hunting lodge in the Eastfold, and thus Lothiriel, baby Theodwyn and Zimraphel came along as well, so the little royal family could spend time away from Meduseld together.

They had been there three days, and the hunting had been good. During the afternoon it had begun to snow and so the men had curtailed the hunting for that day. As they returned to the lodge in the gloomy early evening light, a pack of wolves had attacked. Though they were quickly dispatched, one horse was mortally injured, and Eothain who had been riding the horse, was somewhat mauled before the other men were able to aid him. Quickly they brought him back to the lodge, and Eomer was extremely grateful that Lothiriel had come along on this trip and would be able to tend him.

The commotion they made on their arrival had alerted the women that something was amiss, and they were met at the door. Lothiriel's face paled at the sight of Eothain, and her eyes flashed to her husband's in question. "He is alive," Eomer told her, "but he needs your attention."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Zimraphel, boil some water for me. Eomer, have one of the men find some willow bark. Elfwine, go find a clean bedsheet and tear it into strips of bandages." Quickly each person moved to their assigned task, while Lothiriel checked on Theodwyn to make certain she still slept. Satisfied, she pulled her hair back and secured it, rolled up her sleeves and moved to the other room, where Eothain had been laid, to determine the extent of his injuries.

He had bites on his right arm and shoulder, more on his left leg and a gash along his chin. He had lost quite a bit of blood and was clearly struggling to stay conscious. As Lothiriel finished her examination of him, Eothain weakly tried to jest, "Sorry to be such a bother, my queen, but I thought you were looking a bit bored on this trip!"

She smiled fondly at him, but with little humor, "I could find better ways to occupy my time than fighting to keep you alive, you big oaf. You need not have done this on my account."

He shifted position, wincing in pain, and her hand moved to his forehead, "Easy. I will have something for the pain ready soon. Try to lie still."

Quickly she moved to the other room to see the status of their preparations. Zimraphel had the water boiling and now stood looking worriedly toward the sickroom, "Will he be alright?"

Her voice quavered slightly, and Lothiriel put a reassuring arm around her. "He is badly hurt, but Eothain is far too stubborn to die from a few wolf bites. Do not fret." At Zimraphel's nod, and attempt at a weak smile at her joke, she suggested, "Go and keep an eye on him while I fix the tea and prepare the bandages."

Slowly, Zimraphel moved toward the sickroom, hesitating in the door. Eothain had always seemed so big to her, standing more than a head taller than she did, but somehow he looked small lying in the bed. And there was so much blood…

She stifled a sob, and the sound attracted his attention. Turning to look at her, he gave her a reassuring smile, then raised his left hand and held it out to her, gesturing for her to come in. Moving quickly to the bedside, she timidly took his hand, and he gripped hers firmly. "It is alright, little one. Do not worry."

He winced again as he shifted position, trying to get more comfortable, and her face reflected her concern. Not knowing what else to do, she squeezed his hand tightly in a show of support, and he smiled at the action.

For several moments, she just stood there, smiling worriedly down at him. He had closed his eyes again, content to have her hand wrapped in his. Looking to her right, she saw a chair nearby, and was able to reach it and pull it closer without relinquishing her hold on him.

When he shifted again and a soft moan of pain escaped him, she laid her hand on his forehead, wishing there was more she could do to help him. Her touch seemed to soothe him and he settled back, still with his eyes closed. Suddenly, before she could check the impulse, Zimraphel half rose and leaned over, kissing him gently on the cheek. Blushing furiously, she returned to her seat as his eyes blinked open in surprise.

A slow grin spread over his face and he murmured, "Do I only get kisses when I am injured, or are there more to be had when I am well?"

With a boldness she did not know she possessed, she stammered, "If...if you want any more kisses, then you must get well. I...I will not kiss a dying man." She could hardly believe that she was daring to jest in such a way, and hoped he would not think she was making light of his injuries.

But it was clear from Eothain's expression that he had taken no offense. Chuckling softly, he replied, "Then I shall be up and around in no time, doubtless before Queen Lothiriel would wish it, if there is such incentive to be had for my recovery!"

Her blush returned at his words, but it was accompanied by a pleased feeling at his reaction. He let his eyes slip closed again, but his grip on her hand tightened once more.

Just then Lothiriel returned, accompanied by Eomer and Elfwine who were helping her carry her supplies into the room. As they organized things for her on a table, a cry sounded from the other room. Lothiriel glanced up at her husband, saying, "See to Theodwyn, my love. I will call you if I need your help."

As Eomer and Elfwine left the room, Lothiriel set to work cleaning Eothain's wounds. It was a slow and painful process. Zimraphel was given the task to clean the gash on his chin, and having her so near to him seemed to help distract Eothain from his discomfort. Finally, all his wounds had been cleaned and bound, and they had gotten some willow bark tea into him to help ease the pain.

Drawing Zimraphel with her, Lothiriel admonished Eothain to rest, and they cleaned up their mess and returned to the main room to prepare some broth for him and supper for the others.

While Zimraphel was preparing the broth, Eomer approached his wife, "How is he?"

She sighed, answering, "He will be fine, but I fear he may bear some scars from this."

Eomer nodded. "He has gotten many scars over the years. Sometimes that is the price we pay to survive." His comment was sobering and, suddenly very grateful for Eomer's scars that were received in lieu of death, she moved to embrace him. Seeming to understand her thoughts without them being expressed, he held her close and they stood silently for several moments before she pulled away to help with supper.

Once the broth was ready, Zimraphel offered to take it to Eothain so Lothiriel could focus on feeding her family. Quietly, the girl entered the darkened room where only a few candles had been left burning. She was not sure if he had fallen asleep or not, and was debating whether to wake him if he had. He was too attuned to keeping a sharp ear out for anyone approaching, though, to miss her light footfall, and his eyes came open to gaze at her. A smile spread over his face once more at the sight of her.

Nervously, she held forth the bowl of broth she carried. "This is for you. Do you need help with it?"

He shifted, trying to sit up more, though it was clearly painful to move. Hurrying forward, Zimraphel set down the bowl and grabbed some blankets to put behind him to prop him up. As she reached around him to get them comfortably adjusted for him, she suddenly looked down and met his eyes, inches from her neck. Almost mesmerized by the look he was giving her, she drew slowly back, but his arm came up to catch her waist and stop her movement. She hovered there, the two of them just staring at one another, until slowly Eothain's hand came up to cup her head and pull her toward him. Just before their lips met, he whispered, "I am not dying. Does not that warrant another kiss?"

And then they were kissing and Zimraphel couldn't think of anything else but the softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch and the inexplicable warmth that flooded through her. As he gently released her, his familiar teasing grin appeared. "I am sure that did me far more good than any broth ever could!" Predictably, she blushed red at the comment, but she could not help feeling pleased at his evident pleasure.

With quavering voice, she told him, "Maybe so, but Queen Lothiriel said you were to eat this soup."

Still grinning, he asked, "Will you feed me? I am not sure I am up to it by myself."

She blinked at him in surprise; he had just given every indication of having full use of his hands and arms. Then she realized his intent, and blushed again. "Of course, if that is what you wish," she told him softly.

"It is! And perhaps when I have been a good boy and eaten all my supper, you will favor me with another of your healing kisses?" he suggested, quite unabashedly.

Trying to still the fluttering that suddenly became rampant in her stomach, she forced herself to squeak bravely, "_Only_ if you are a good boy!"

If he hadn't witnessed it for himself, Eothain would not have thought it possible for someone to perpetually blush, but Zimraphel's cheeks stayed red the entire time she fed him. For some reason it pleased him immensely to have that effect on her. All things considered, he could tolerate a few animal bites and a bit of pain if it meant getting this kind of attention from her. Something about her intrigued him. He never intended to tease her so mercilessly, but the moment they were in each other's company, he hardly seemed able to restrain himself from doing so. If he truly thought that it bothered her, he would have ceased immediately, but something told him that part of her enjoyed it as much as he did.

When the broth was eaten, Eothain laid tiredly back and watched the girl a moment. Rubbing his stomach, he finally said, "Would you ask our good queen if I might have more to eat than broth? That really does not fill me up. I am not in a delicate condition!"

She smiled and nodded, rising to exit the room with the empty bowl. Lothiriel was just dishing up stew to her family when the girl reappeared and made known Eothain's request. Chuckling, Lothiriel replied, "I suppose so, though we do not want him to regain too much of his strength or we will never get him to cooperate while we tend his injuries!" As an afterthought, while Zimraphel was refilling his bowl with stew, she said, "And do not let him give you any nonsense about feeding him. You have your own supper to eat."

Zimraphel blushed guiltily, then suggested, "Perhaps if I take a bowl for me as well and eat in there, it will make him feed himself so that I can eat also."

Lothiriel's eyes studied her speculatively for a moment, then she nodded in acquiescence. "If that is what you wish."

Once the girl had returned to the other room, Eomer and Lothiriel's eyes met as she sat down at the table. Simultaneously, they both broke into a grin of amusement. Noticing it, Elfwine asked, "What is so humorous?"

Eomer ruffled his hair and responded, "Nothing much. We are just entertained by Eothain's milking his injuries for all he can get."

It was clear that Elfwine still did not understand what they were talking about, but he shrugged his shoulders and dug into his meal without further comment. He just chalked it up to something grownups do that was strange.

Over the next two days, Lothiriel had little she needed to do for Eothain other than check his injuries to make sure they did not become infected, and keep him supplied with willow bark tea for the pain. Zimraphel readily took it upon herself to see to his needs and since it was done so eagerly, Lothiriel did not attempt to dissuade her.

They might have remained at the lodge a few days more, but by the third day it was nearly impossible to keep Eothain in bed any longer, and he insisted he was well enough to ride home. The pack animals were loaded and Lothiriel rode with her son, giving her horse to Eothain. Not to her surprise, he straggled toward the rear of their party, and Zimraphel dropped behind to keep him company under the guise of keeping an eye on him for any difficulties with his injuries.

Once back at Meduseld, Eothain was given a guest room to use until his wounds were completely healed, much to the astonishment of Eomer. He had never known the Marshal to ever admit the need to be cared for, yet he readily submitted to, and even encouraged, Zimraphel's fussing over him.

Returning to his bedchamber after visiting the man, he was shaking his head in disbelief. At Lothiriel's curious look, he explained the source of his wonder. With a laugh, she told him, "What is so strange about that, my love? Can you not read the signs? I think it is very likely I may have to find yet another maidservant if the two of them continue this way!"

Eomer rubbed his neck as he considered this, then smiled, "I hope you are right. I think she will be good for him, and he has been alone too long. That is not good for any man." He moved toward her with a grin. "And speaking of which…" His arms slipped around her and they soon had more pressing interests to occupy them than Eothain.

xxxxx

By the time the Yule celebrations arrived, Eothain was completely recovered. He did indeed bear a few scars from the mishap, but he had come away surprisingly unscathed, all things considered. Since the incident, there had been a subtle change in his demeanor around Zimraphel. He still teased her often, but she didn't seem quite so embarrassed by it as she had been before. Whenever she was not needed by the queen, he took it upon himself to teach her more about Rohan and its people, necessitating them spending considerable time together.

Early in the spring, heavy downpours had pretty much halted most outdoor activity for a week, but after two days straight of sunshine, Edoras was bustling again. It was on a sunny, bright day in March that the Marshal showed up in the Golden Hall. He found the queen supervising the lessons of Elfwine, Freawine, Denulf and Ethelstan. The latter three, sons of Gamling, had not been entirely thrilled when Lothiriel had offered to teach them along with her own son, but their mother, Eadnes, had welcomed it and they did not have a choice. She knew the queen could teach them far more than she could, with her limited schooling, and she was grateful for the opportunity for her sons. Whenever she could, she tried to attend with the boys and learn along with them, as well as assist the queen in any way needed.

Eothain was reluctant to interrupt, but the boys seemed engrossed in some task, so he quietly asked Lothiriel, "My lady, would you have a moment to speak with me privately?"

As they moved away from the others, Eadnes assured Lothiriel she would keep an eye on their sons in her absence. For possibly the first time since Lothiriel had met him, Eothain actually looked nervous. They moved to a secluded area of the Hall and he gestured for her to be seated, plunking down on the bench across the table from her.

For several moments, he just stared at his hands clasped on the table, but then he finally raised troubled eyes to meet her questioning look. "I…you know I think very highly of you, my lady, and I would never wish to have you truly wroth with me…" His voice trailed off as he seemed to reconsider the direction his explanation was taking.

A worried crease in her forehead, Lothiriel reached over and laid a hand on his clasped ones. "Eothain, surely whatever you have to say to me is not so dreadful that we will come to blows over it! Just tell me and we will reason together as intelligent, rational people."

He sighed and nervously looked anywhere but directly at her as he said, "Of course…I…I wish to marry Zimraphel. I know you have just employed her and did not want to have to find another maidservant so soon, but I…" He stumbled to a halt, flushing red and his head bowed.

Leaning across the table, Lothiriel bent low and looked up into his face with a grin. Startled, he drew back and sat up to face her. Falling back into her seat, she smiled tenderly at him, "Do you think this news surprises me greatly, my friend? Did you truly think I could not tell you had feelings for her?"

He gave her a sheepish look but did not respond, so she pressed on, "Unless you object to such a thing, Zimraphel could continue to be in my employ even after you are married. Miren did not see fit to stop working until after her second child, mainly because we enjoyed one another so. Perhaps Zimraphel will wish to stop working sooner, given the opportunity, but I do not require her to do so."

The Marshal was looking too relieved for Lothiriel to let him off so easy. "Besides, we may now hope that she will be able to tame you a bit and improve your manners! I think it likely she will want to stay in my employ if for no other reason than to vent her frustration to someone about her thick-headed husband!"

Uncharacteristically, Eothain gazed at her solemnly and avowed, "I will do all in my power not to make her regret accepting me…if she _does_ accept me, that is." He hesitated, then admitted, "I have not yet asked her."

Setting aside her teasing, Lothiriel rose and came around to stand behind him. Pressing a kiss to his head, she assured him, "I should be very surprised if she refuses you, Eothain. For some inexplicable reason, I think the girl adores you! Now, get out of here and go propose, before I think better of our conversation and decide to warn her against you!"

Had they not been in full view of the entire Hall, albeit a relatively empty Hall just then, Lothiriel thought it likely Eothain would have swept her into a hug. Before he could move away, she laid a hand on his arm. "Eothain, she may have some hesitation, under the circumstances. Tell her I will gladly speak with her about any of her concerns and help her resolve any difficulties."

He gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement and cast his eyes about the room. Grinning, Lothiriel told him, "She has gone into town to run some errands for me. You will find her there."

He let out a laugh, but then sobered and told her sincerely, "I can only dream that my marriage will be like yours and Eomer's. I have long envied my friend for the treasure he found."

He hurried away before the queen could respond, and she returned to the boys and their lessons.

As Eothain exited the front doors of Meduseld and started down the stairs, he considered how to find Zimraphel. By the time he reached the bottom of the steps, he had decided waiting there at Meduseld might be the best solution. He could intercept her upon her return and not risk missing her in town.

He moved over and took a seat on a low wall to wait. Luck was with him, and she turned up less than a quarter hour later, several bundles in her arms. Quickly he hastened to unburden her, and she blushed in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord."

He gave her a roguish grin, but made no comment as he accompanied her up the steps. Once they reached the top, however, he steered her around the side to the queen's garden at the back of Meduseld.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "The queen is waiting for me."

Eothain smiled and reassuringly told her, "I have spoken with the queen and she will not object to your delay in returning." Guiding her along several paths until they were in the deeper recesses of the garden, he directed her to a bench. She took a seat, looking questioningly up at him as he set the bundles down beside her and then took a pace back.

Rubbing his neck nervously, Eothain frantically tried to recall the flowery speech he had prepared for the occasion, but his mind was annoyingly blank. The longer he struggled, the less clearly he seemed to be thinking and she was beginning to fidget with agitation at his silence. Finally, in desperation, he blurted out, "I would have you for my wife!"

Appalled, he stared at her. That was not at all how he had intended to do things. It wasn't gentle or romantic or any of the things women liked. Why would any woman agree to such a demand!

Slowly she stood, staring at him in astonishment, and having to tilt her head back to see his face once she was standing. For several moments, their eyes were locked and neither spoke a word. Then, blushing furiously red, she moved forward and slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as she laid her head on his chest. "I would like that," she murmured.

For an instant, Eothain stood frozen in place, not entirely sure he hadn't imagined her response. At length, though, comprehension took over and he wrapped her in his arms. "Yes?" he whispered.

Turning a tearful face up to him, she laughed. "Yes!"

He didn't remember moving, but suddenly he was kissing her with a passion so strong she had to cling to him for support. When finally he released her, she was gulping for breath, but her eyes shone with both love and humor. Unable to think of words to express her feelings, she just slipped into his arms once more and again laid her head on his chest.

Thus it happened that Zimraphel did not return from her 'errands' for another hour. The boys had been released for the remainder of the day, so the queen was no longer in the main hall. They found her, however, when Eothain carried the bundles to Lothiriel's bedchamber for Zimraphel.

At the sight of her, the girl's face froze in concern and she quickly turned away, busying herself with unwrapping the purchases. Eothain was oblivious to the sudden change in her demeanor, throwing the queen an impish grin before he kissed the girl goodbye and told her he would see her at supper.

When the two women were alone, Lothiriel asked quietly, "Zimraphel?" She pressed no further, and the girl timidly turned to face her, not meeting her gaze. "Speak," the queen instructed.

Mournfully, the girl looked up at her. "Lord Eothain, he...he has asked me to marry him, my lady. But, perhaps I am not at liberty to do so." Her voice had trailed to a whisper by the time she got it all out.

Shaking her head, Lothiriel moved over and swept the girl into her arms. "Of course you are at liberty to do so! I do not own you, and I would never deny you happiness. We will discuss the particulars and find a solution for each of us, but if you wish to marry that big oaf, then I shall do everything in my power to see it done! And you will be a beautiful bride and have a lovely wedding, make no mistake about it!"

Zimraphel could not hold back the tears of relief and gratitude that flooded through her, and it occurred to Lothiriel just how alone the poor girl must feel with no surviving family. Well, she would not let her suffer for that. They would be her family and see this done right.

And so it was that a maidservant from Gondor, who had been in the queen's employ for less than a year, found herself being wed in the Golden Hall. She was wearing a dress that the queen had helped her sew, she was given on the arm of the king's Doorward and there was a feast held afterward for all of the staff of Meduseld and anyone of the town who cared to attend.

It would be difficult to say which looked most terrified on their wedding day – the shy, blushing bride or the middle-aged groom who was wondering what on earth he was getting himself into. But when they were finally bound as husband and wife, and sealed their vows with a kiss, the fear seemed to disappear. The queen had little doubt it would be a big adjustment for the both of them, but she also knew they both would work hard at making it turn out right.

THE END

1/29/06 – 2/8/06

_**A/N2: This could get a bit confusing, so I thought I ought to mention it. Because I have done so many variations on how E/L met and got together, you have seen quite a bit of Eothain. In all versions of my stories, his character/personality are essentially the same. HOWEVER, the No Mistake/Elfwine Chronicles series has seen little of Eothain. He really only appears to any appreciable extent in "You Want What?". Many of the things you "remember" happening between him and Eomer or Lothiriel are NOT in this series.**_

_**In case you can't tell, if Eothain were a dog, I see him as being a cross between a Labrador and a Doberman. Most of the time he is this big, lovable, affable pooch, but get him riled and he can be deadly dangerous. Mentally, I rather imagine him as being a big bruiser of a man, rather like Sean Bean as Boromir. He can be physically intimidating without saying a word.**_

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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